


Always on My Mind

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story #2 in the Elvis Collection.  Alone, Jim's thoughts turn to Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always on My Mind

## Always on My Mind

by Dante

The boys don't belong to me. That honor goes to Bilson and DeMeo.

Thanks to all of those who sent feedback about Heartbreak Hotel. "You like me, you really like me!" <g>   
And whether or not she actually believes me, Alyjude encourages me to write by her fine example.

The road for Jim and Blair is bumpy in this series. But rest assured, love will triumph.eventually.

This story is a sequel to: Heartbreak Hotel 

* * *

Always on My Mind  
By Dante  
January 2003 

Jim Ellison stood at his balcony, unmindful of the cold wintry air caressing his naked chest. He registered that it was there, but tuned it out, not really feeling it. His thoughts were elsewhere as his gaze drifted over the city. His city. The city of Cascade. Somewhere amongst the twinkling lights was his friend and roommate, Blair Sandburg. 

Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes as if trying to sharpen his Sentinel vision. He saw what he expected to see--cars cruising through the streets, moonlight glinting off the water of the bay, and just at the edge of the skyline, mountains sketched in shadow. The one thing he could not see, however, was the one thing he was looking for. 

"Where are you, Chief?" Jim whispered in the stillness. He had been awake most of the night, sleep having eluded him. So he stood clad in only a pair of sweatpants, waiting for his friend to return. Jim could never fully fall asleep until he knew Blair had returned and was safely ensconced in the Sentinel's territory. He had acknowledged that long ago. And whether Blair knew that or not, he'd always made it home long before morning, unconsciously easing the prickly unease that dogged Jim when Blair was absent. 

But, now, dawn was approaching and Jim's disquiet grew. Blair wasn't back yet, might not be back at all before Jim had to leave for work. 

And that thought filled Jim with dread. 

"Why?" Jim again spoke out loud, as if hearing the words would clarify his thoughts. "Why is that the case, Chief? You're old enough to take care of yourself. You've been doing that for a long time. Hell, you've been taking care of me, too. So, why am I so worried about you? Why do I feel this fear in my gut that you won't come back to me?" Jim shook his head. "Why am I talking to myself?" 

His attempt at brevity did nothing to ease the turmoil he felt. Jim was talking to himself because Blair wasn't there for him to talk to. Not that he could ever ask Blair any of those questions. Fear of the answers kept him from doing that. 

But maybe it was time, he thought to himself. Maybe it was time to think about the answers to those questions. Maybe it was time to examine his feelings. 

The relentless need to have his friend safe and by his side wasn't new to Jim. The strange thing was that the need had reached magnificent proportions, gradually building over the last few months. Every few nights, Jim would find himself on the balcony, straining his Sentinel sight and hearing. Like clockwork, a feeling of calm would settle over him just as he detected the Volvo with Blair in it coming around the corner and pulling into its parking space. And, as usual, it was just enough time for Jim to climb the stairs and crawl into bed. There was no need for Sandburg to know Jim waited up for him each time he was out late. There were some things better left unsaid. 

Questions not answered. Things left unsaid. 

Jim hung his head as he began to get a glimmer of what he had been hiding from himself. He was such a coward. Then he smiled at that thought. He could hear Blair's voice in his head. 'Man, you're the bravest person I know. You're a cop with heightened senses. You're the Sentinel of the Great City. You look out for those who are in trouble. You protect the people of Cascade. You're no coward, Jim.' 

"You'd be wrong, Chief," Jim answered softly. "This time, just this once, you'd be wrong." 

Blair was always there to defend him, to support him--Jim's own personal cheerleader. It was that loyalty and enthusiasm which made Blair special. 

And that was easy for Jim to concede. He couldn't find a better partner in Blair. The anthropologist was intelligent, often bringing a unique insight to any case they handled. Even others in the department recognized his value. Other detectives often came to Blair asking him to look over a case just to see what theory he would come up with. Blair's ability to think "outside the box" was legendary. Jim was proud of Blair's achievements in the department. 

But Blair was more than a partner. He was a friend. Jim couldn't think of another person in his life before or since that was a better one. It could be argued that Simon Banks came close, but it was Sandburg that Jim thought of as his best friend. 

"Maybe it's a Sentinel thing," Jim mused aloud. "No," he answered his own question. "Not just a Sentinel thing." Blair was a part of the Sentinel mystique. Of that, Jim had no doubt. But, like everything else, it was only part of the package that made Sandburg who he was. 

Jim had to acknowledge that in this area Blair was important. He would have to be an idiot not to. Blair guided him daily. Most of the time it was in a practical sort of way--teaching him techniques that would utilize his senses. Other times it was more spiritual. Blair was his Shaman after all. But in any case, it wasn't the be all, end all of Blair Sandburg. 

"So what is it? Why is it that you're always on my mind, Chief? What is it that keeps me up at night waiting for you? What is it that I can't admit to myself?" 

Jim took a deep breath, letting the chilly air fill his nostrils before exhaling through his mouth. Without thought, he started the breathing exercises Blair had taught him even as an image of the young man filled his mind. 

Blair was smaller and more compact, but that in no way diminished his size. The younger man had a presence. You could see that by watching him teach a class full of freshman, corral a bunch of unruly cops, or handle a gruff, often intimating captain. The strength of Blair's character was often most noticeable when dealing with a stubborn Sentinel. 

The image of Blair smiled and Jim caught himself mirroring the action. When Blair began to gesture, Jim couldn't help feeling amused. Even in his head Blair was in 3D. But that was his partner. Blair couldn't talk without sketching his thoughts in the air, couldn't get excited without his eyes sparkling. When Blair was in a good mood, others couldn't help but respond. You might be feeling down, but after a visit from Blair, you always felt better in spite of yourself. 

Of course, that also meant that when Blair was in a bad mood, you wanted to steer clear. It was often a rare display of temper and it was generally triggered by a sense of injustice. Blair's indignation was a force to be reckoned with and often people didn't know how to react. He was so used to being seen as the peacemaker that his outrage was hard for people to understand. 

Blair Sandburg was a unique and complicated individual. Jim had long since come to appreciate that. Many other Sandburg qualities came to mind, but once again the vision in his head took center stage. 

Closing his eyes, Jim let his mental gaze drift over his partner. Even in his mind's eye, his focus was Sentinel sharp. From his head to his toes, from the inside out, Blair was beautiful. Even when he was at his most exasperating, there was something about Blair that struck a cord deep within the chambers of Jim's heart. 

"Is that it, Blair?" Jim wondered. "You've crawled so deep inside my skin that I can't have a thought without you in it? And if that's the case, what am I supposed to do about it? Better yet, do I want to do something about it?" 

He opened his eyes and once more gazed about the city, detecting the first rays of dawn. "And where the hell are you?" Jim demanded. "You're supposed to be here, Chief, you're supposed to be here..." He fell silent again as his thoughts drifted to where Blair might be and with whom. 

"Are you seeing him again tonight?" Jim whispered softly, unaware of the sadness lacing his words. "You probably don't even realize I know that you're dating a man, do you? But I do know, Chief. No matter how hard you try to erase his scent, I still know. No matter how hard you try, you can't get rid of the stray blond hairs that cling to your shirt. It just doesn't matter because I notice everything about you." 

Suddenly feeling as if his heart had gone numb, Jim slumped against the edge of the balcony. "Why did you feel you had to hide yourself from me, Blair? Don't you know I would have understood this? I wouldn't have judged you. If you found someone to love you, Chief, I would have been happy for you." 

And that's when Jim realized he was lying to himself. Deep down inside he knew the answers to his questions, knew that what he left unsaid was perfectly clear in his mind. In trying to get a clear picture of Blair, Jim realized that the younger man wasn't meant to be with someone else. 

Blair's image was still uppermost in his mind. Jim concentrated and eventually, other images started to come into focus. He could see Blair still gesturing, lips silently moving as speech accompanied movement. The anthropologist was now perched on the arm of the sofa. And as the vision became clearer, he saw himself sitting in the corner of that same couch, his leg touching Sandburg's. Jim's head was tilted as if listening, his gaze never wavering from Blair's face. 

And that was the way it should be. 

End Always on my Mind  
January 2003 

* * *

End Always on My Mind by Dante: hellfordante@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
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